Touch
by CSIvHP11
Summary: "I want to know what you look like," she continued. "I am aware that I can't visually know, but I could construct a basic image in my head if I could…" She let the words trail off. It really was a stupid idea. Bering and Wells. ImagineyourOTP prompt


_Imagine person A being blind from birth, they start dating person B and one day they ask for permission to touch person B's face, person B agrees and then person A gently touches person B's face, "seeing" with their hands person B's features for the first time._

_I did change the cause of the blindness._

"Myka?"

The voice was quiet, and the questioning inflection barely there. Myka looked up from the book she had been reading aloud. She had not heard Helena sound so scared, so small, since before the woman had returned to the Warehouse.

"Yes?"

"Never mind, it was a stupid idea."

"You don't have stupid ideas. You have great ideas, then convince yourself they're stupid."

Helena smiled softly.

Myka always managed to cheer her up. She was always there for her.

When MacPherson had left her to die after learning that the after effects of being bronzed left her practically incapacitated.

When Artie had done everything in his power to prevent her from receiving medicinal care for the same effects, claiming that someone who had deserved bronzing deserved every punishment delivered.

When Doctor Vanessa had told her the news that her nerves would most likely always be over sensitive, and her pupils would most likely never contract, leaving her blind and with a low threshold for physical contact.

Blind. Blind and helpless. That was what her anger and wrath had left her. Well, '_Angry men are blind and foolish,' _as Pietro Aretino once said. The words had never rung more true to Helena.

"Helena?"

The soft prompt drew her from her thoughts. The voice tugged at the corners of her mouth. She may have never seen Myka, but someone with that voice must be beautiful.

"I want to see you, Myka," she slowly said.

She heard the subtle change in Myka's breathing, the slight hitch.

"I want to know what you look like," she continued. "I am aware that I can't visually know, but I could construct a basic image in my head if I could…" She let the words trail off. It really was a stupid idea. Why would Myka want her hands all over her face?

Clothes rustled, and a floorboard creaked. Moments later, she could feel Myka's presence kneeling in front of her, and her hands hovering over her own.

Helena lifted her hands slightly, letting Myka lightly grasp them. She let out a breath as Myka raised their hands, and placed them on her face.

"I told you, you do not have stupid ideas," Myka told her.

Helena grinned, and let her fingers roam over the features. She committed everything to memory. A basic image started to form in her mind. Long and thin. Full lips. Large eyes.

Her thumbs brushed over the fluttering eyelids.

"What color are they?" Helena whispered.

"Green."

Her hands moved down the long neck, then around into the hair. Thick and curly and

"Brown," Myka murmured.

Helena nodded.

She felt a tear start its descent down her own cheek. Myka raised a hand and wiped is away with her thumb. The action only cause more tears to form.

It had been so long since Helena had had any type of physical interaction with another person like this. Since returning to the world, so much pain and suffering had followed her, she avoided physical contact with everything she had. Even after she and Myka had advanced their rapport to a level beyond mere friendship, their relationship was still focused on the emotional and intellectual aspects, rarely moving beyond hand holding.

This, however, reminded her of what she had missed. The soft skin beneath her fingers. The light breaths on her wrists. The hand that still cupped her cheek. None of it brought the pain to which she had grown accustomed.

Her thumb moved to run across Myka's lips.

"Can I?" she quietly asked.

"Yes," Myka replied. The breath tingled on Helena's skin.

Using the location of her thumb to guide her, Helena slowly lowered her head and connected their lips.

It was light and chaste, but both women pulled away smiling.

"I believe I could grow accustomed to your touch."

**I don't own them.**


End file.
